Friday, July 29, 2005

What, would you rather Kanye "nat" do this?

Proving once again how much of a douche he is, Kanye West spouts off more bullshit on a recent interview here. Besides being just barely coherent, West again comments on the accusation the BC dot C made against him. Also again he tries to guilt trip his detractors by asking if we would rather he not made "Jesus Walks". Speaking purely for myself, yes I would rather you not made the song, in fact I would rather you just fall off the face of the earth.

In the interview, he touches on the Michael Jackson trial, the Source magazine, and again shows how dumb he actually is by repeatedly misusing the word oxymoron. Whether your a fan or not this interview is entertaining so go read it.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

Amerikkka's Most Wanted: Album Review

Ice Cube with the legendary Bomb Squad, need I say more? Ice Cube teamed up with Public Enemy's production group on this album and the result in nothing short of spectacular. The album starts off with the single "The Nigga You Love to Hate" and does not let up for a second after it. He touches on topics from police brutality, to drive by's. Cube however is at his descriptive best on tracks like "What They Hittin Foe?" where he is describing the scene at a crap game.

When he's not callin' ho's ho's or partying or drinking, Cube is droppin' knowledge on tracks like "Endangerd Species"(feat Chuck D). Misogynistic lyrics like on "Im Only Out for One Thing" (feat Flava Flav) and "Get Off my Dick and Tell your Bitch to Come Here" might put some off of this album, not anyone that I know, but the album has a lot more to offer than just that.

The one problem I do have is that the Bomb Squad IS PE's producers. Cube already naturally sounds like Chuck D, and with him (Cube) having his (Chuck)production team it doesnt help that. On the song Chuck guests on its hard to decipher between the two. Other than that the cd is about flawless.

Monday, July 25, 2005

Observe the Wonders of Photoshop

Greetings ya'll, and apologizes to djxplicit/zodiack digital and the rest of the crew for not holding my weight as a contributor (uh, no homo?). I'd try and make some excuse, but who the fuck cares? As long as I provide something to read as you download your pr0n then it doesn't really matter what I say. With that in mind, I must direct your attention to this site. Here you will find the work of photo-retoucher Glenn Feron, who helps moderately attractive women look like goddesses...or airbrushed whores.
Either way, it is kinda interesting to see what a number of celebrities look like before their photos are retouched. Most of these women are pretty goddamn hot even before the retouching (like Halle Berry) but it's still pretty cool to look at the before-and-after shots and see how ol' Feron has used Photoshop to make somebodys ass bigger, their clevage more abundant, or their cellulite look baby-smooth. I don't want to start some innane debate about how you'd hit so-and-so without make-up (because really, you never will you goddamn internet junkie), but I do think that the whole idea of presenting someone who is flawed like the rest of us as an airbrushed beauty is an interesting phenomenon.
I think we all realize (or at least we all should) that most of what we percieve in our popular culture (as far as beauty is concerned) is just a charade, or an illusion; an ideal presentation that doesn't really exist. Like the fact that Alicia Keys isn't really that hot or a great musician but most people percieve her to be both because she (and her agent) present herself as talented and beautiful when really her whole success is entirely dependent on technology that changes the product she brings to the table, which is herself. Whether it's studio tricks to make her voice sound better or photoshop techniques that make her look more attractive, like Alicia Keyes, most celebrites aren't all they're cracked up to be. There's a lesson here to be learned but I can't tell you what it is because I'm just here to let dumb motherfuckers know.*out*

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

New side project

In Spanish, so most likely youll never read it, but yeah, its written by yours truly, no homo, the Zodiac.

Thursday, July 14, 2005

Doggonit, People Like Me!

Today was another shitty ass day for the Villain. I just went through another week of self-help hell. Only thing that has gotten me to this point is the fact that I get paid tomorrow, and I get to "afford" a little relaxation in the form of some crackhead hoe slobbin' on my noggin' (also known as yo' mama).

Image hosted by Photobucket.comTake today. Today was personal assessment day. The head counselor met with us individually to tell us how fucked up we all are. I found out that I'm a self-hating asshole who has issues with authority. And apparently, it's all because of me that I've been an asshole all this time. It's all my fuckin' fault. Beyotch!

It's been my personal choice all this time to have a fucked up, shitty, broke existence. And apparently, it's all up to me, and only me, to stop being an asshole. I can stop being an asshole today, or I can stop being an asshole tomorrow. But it's all up to me to stop being an asshole. But as I used to tell my last steady chick, asshole does what asshole is, which makes it unbelievably hard to stop being one.

By the way, doesn't it just piss you off when someone you hardly know starts giving you fuckin' advice on how to be a better person. Right after I got shitted on by the head counselor, some alcoholic beyotch I've only known for like five weeks starts telling me about how I need to be more energetic.

She suggested I start saying some bullshit Dr. Phil affirmation-type shit. You know, that shit Al Franken used to do in those old Saturday Night Live skits. What was his shit: I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and I like big dicks. Some flimsy shit like that.

This beyotch starts telling me that she says some shit like, "My day gets better with each new day," or some bullshit like that. I stop acting like an asshole for one second, and I find myself having some bullshit conversation with some beyotch trying to tell me, not too subtly, about how fucked up she thinks I am. That's what I get for being nice to the beyotch.

Image hosted by Photobucket.comAnd then the tag teaming begins, and not the good kind. Because now some fucked up self-help beyotch comes in and starts up on the same shit. And I finally see where the other two Oprah Winfrey beyotches got this dumb shit from. Self-help beyotch starts in on how all anger is about fear, and all fear is about you, not the other person.

So, take my crackhead uncle. I took this asshole to the doctor, on the request of my mother. His fuckin' eye was hurtin', or some shit like that. Probably got infected when he was suckin' some dick for some crack, and when ol' dude busted a nut, some of that STD infected shit got squirted in his crackhead eye. The fuckin' crackhead bastard.

Anyway, I take his ass to the doctor. Afterwards, I stop at Walgreens to get some more razors and shaving cream. I come back, and his crackhead ass has gone and ripped the fuckin' rearview mirror from off the windshield.

Now he had to rip this shit off because there was a chunk of glass ripped out of the windshield. And the chunk was still attached to the metal button that slides out of the arm of the rearview mirror. And his crackhead ass had the nerve to tell me that that shit just fell off.

So, I show him the fuckin' chunk taken outta my windshield. And his ass is lookin' like he got shit all over his face. Then, he has the nerve to tell me about his fuckin' eye still hurtin'. FUCK HIS GODDAMN EYE!

I kicked his beyotch ass outta my fuckin' car and made him walk the fuck home. AND THE FUCKIN' SELF-HELP BEYOTCH IS ACTIN' LIKE IT'S ALL ON ME! FUCK THAT HOE. FUCK'EM ALL! ASSHOLES! This beyotch starts talkin' some mumbo-jumbo about how anger is about me getting mad at myself for letting someone else bring something out of me that I don't like. How about anger is about some asshole saying or doing something that just pisses you the fuck off. How about that shit, beyotch. Why the fuck do people gotta make shit so complicated.

I'm telling you, I'm about done with this shit. I'm thinking of ending all this betterment-of-self shit because it's been nothing but a pain. And I know just what that self-help beyotch might say to that. Change is a pain, but without change, you will never be happy. Well, guess what beyotch, I'll never be fuckin' happy. With yo' stankin' ass

P.S. I guess it has been a personal choice all along.

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Not Biology

I'd kill for a pork chop sandwich right about now. I normally hate the pork, being that I'm a righteous black man. But, dammit, the white man's devil food been calling me all day. I could either have that pork chop or some ham with cheese. Shit. I can't wait til I get my hands on that shitty ass check on Friday.

By the way, all you thugs out there forget I typed that shit. I ain't lookin' to get my fuckin head busted open while I'm walkin' out the currency exchange. I know all about you filthy thievin' bastards. One minute I'm cool, the next minute I'm walkin' funny (no homo).

Anyway, two more days. Two more days. Two more days til I get moe money to spend on some hoe'in. First, I'mma buy that slutty ass chick that likes to show me her cootchie when I walks by. I think she does that shit because she likes me. Her pussy glistens a tad bit more for me then for the other dude's on the avenue. Then, I'mma get that chick who has all but two of her front teeth. When that beyotch smiles, she lights up the foot of a car. Then, I'mma get that chick who's always singin' fucked up soul songs out loud to herself. That beyotch is crazy. But I hear those crazy beyotches give it to a man straight up raw. And raw is just how a brotha likes that shit, especially on the weekend.

Oh weeee! I can't wait.

Anyway. I'll be back tomorrow to post some shit. Or this could be Wednesday when this is posted, so, I'll see you beyotches on Thursday. So, even though it says Tuesday, it's most likely Wednesday. Or it could already be saying Wednesday, to which I say, no mind. Forget about it.

Saturday, July 09, 2005

Raw Public and Jesus

An amusing message i got today on myspace to my band, Raw Public.

From: Jonathan, with JesusHouseofPraise
Date: Jul 3, 2005 4:03 AM
Subject: Hello Raw Public...It's Jonathan, with Jesus House of Praise

Hello Raw Public...It's Jonathan, with Jesus House of Praise

I hope all is well...really love your's very cool.

I'm in Forestville, MD. I'd like to meet you one day.

Can you provide some feedback?

I'm thinking of hosting a music event...might call it...

"JOY NIGHT"...where local musicians, singers, dancer's, and poets can come together to honor and praise our
great god and savior, Jesus...what do you think of the idea? What might I do to help make it successful?

I want to see souls saved and the saints encouraged.

Hollaback when you can.

Thursday, July 07, 2005

The Return

As promised in the previous post, I have returned to the blog scene (?). You can now read NEW non-sensical ramblings at my god-forsaken blog.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Why Alberto Gonzales is the perfect Supreme Court Justice

I will begin this post by apologizing to the loyal readers of my wonderful blog. Ive been gone from the blog scene for about 3 or 4 weeks now. My readership has not fallen to zero yet, but its getting there. But there is good news children! I will be ressurecting it sometime this week, with a new format! When I say new format that just means more than just sports. Trust me the game will never be the same again.

Next I would like to demand an apology from Doc. I promised myself that I was through blogging, but his tirade (see previous post) drove me back into it. Damn you, you magnificent bastard. (uhh no homo).

Now to the issue at hand. As most of you know, Supreme Court Justice Sanadra Day O' Connor will be retiring soon. And also as most of you know El Presidente Busho gets to choose her replacement. Most of you liberals are going apeshit over this fact, understandibly so. The last thing I want is for some Bible thumping, racist, white, conservative to have a say in interpeting the constitution.

However Bush's percieved nominee, Alberto Gonzales, is the PERFECT candidate. Yes he is ultra conservative, yes he is catholic, and yes he is hispanic [ed note: not that being hispanic is a downside, the other two are though] but he is also smart.

Conservatives hate this guy. According to the Washington Post he isnt conservative enough for them. Dont get me wrong he is very conservative, but he does not let his personal beliefes cloud his judgements concerning the interpetation of the Constitution. For example on the issue of abortion, he is firmly against it, however he doesnt believe that it should be illegal in the eyes of the law.

So we have a guy who conservatives hate. Liberals are against him too, but just because the want to be partisan. Seriously the Democrats in Congress are just a non-factor right now. The only function Dem's have anymore is to oppose repulbican nominees for no other reason than they are republican. Sometimes they are worse then republicans, but I digress.

Even though there is no way he will be approved by congress this guy is the perfect choice for the Supreme Court.

{the next macq post will be about why Gonzales will be the worst thing to happen to the Supreme Court since Clarence Thomas}

Tuesday, July 05, 2005


Look at that shit over there. Five fuckin names besides the Zodiac, and I'm the only asshole postin'. It's bullshit. Bullshit, I say. You lazy muthafuckas. No fuckin' no-pay for none of you. Let's see you pay your fucked up baby's mamas now, beyotches. Beyotches think they gon' get that Link card and not work for it. What the fuck you think this is? Canada?!? This shit here is American made, with a tad bit of Guatemalan, but only a tad. We raise flags, and piss on that shit afterwards, like fuckin' real Americans. We're the fuckin' Toby Keiths of this blog shit.

Damn, I'm feeling patriotic, and horny. Probably a little more horny than patriotic. And who knows, if I had a little more cootchie in my life, I might not be so morbid. But, alas, I don't. And my life is a piece of shit. That's why I do this shit. This shit here is my fuckin' hobby. I do this shit to get my mind off of how fucked up I am. Which is probably why I'm the only person posting. Because I have no fuckin' life. I should have a life, but I don't.

Take today. I went to my shithole job. I half-assed my way through a day's work. Afterwards, I let a co-worker talk me into exercising, some shit I hadn't done in like four or five years. This beyotch had me running up flights of stairs, and powerwalking down the fuckin' main streets. By the end, my fuckin' back was cramping up; my calves felt like they were about to bust; and I was wheezing my way back to where we started. I felt like I was about to have a heart attack. I came off like a complete pussy. And I did it all just to get some crack. Booty crack, that is.

Image hosted by Photobucket.comThing is, my time would have best been spent back at home, in front of the television, watching some bullshit reruns or something. You know, the kind of shit we all used to watch as kids. We may piss on the youngsters, but those little bastards know a little something. Why spend your time outside getting exercise, playing with your friends, doing constructive shit with your time, when you could be at home watching fucked up Japanese cartoons, or courtroom shows, or fuckin' massive amounts of The Parkers and Friends. Trust me. There just ain't too many times where they can show bullshit like that over and over again. I never get enough of that crap.

Of course, when I was growing up, we didn't have such high brow fair. We watched reruns of Three's Company, Mork and Mindy, Happy Days, Laverne and Shirley. Later, there were the Cosbys, and those white people who were related to Michael J. Fox, and Cheers, and Night Court. Man, I miss Night Court. Night Court was one of the funniest shows ever. Actually, Mork and Mindy was pretty funny, as well. Or, at least, I remember it being funny. If I saw an episode today, I probably wouldn't find that shit all that amusing. Nothing is ever as good as you remember it.

Like the Three Stooges. Every kid has watched the Three Stooges at some point. It's part of being a kid. And yet, now, I can't sit through one skit. Maybe it's because I've seen them all so many times. Maybe I just know what'll happen next. You can only watch grown men poke each other in the eye, hit each other with hammers, or burn each other on the ass with irons before you say enough is enough. It's overkill.

Image hosted by Photobucket.comFunny thing about reruns though, I very seldom remember the dramas. I mean, you got your Jake and the Fat Man, your Hawaii Five-O, your Untouchables, Dragnets, Fantasy Island, and other shit like that. But how many dramas can you remember seeing when you were a kid. Not very many, I bet. Of course, this could be because dramas are boring to kids. Only old people watch Walker, Texas Ranger, or Diagnosis Murder. Kids can't sit through bullshit like that. In fact, the only drama I can actually remember watching as a kid is the Rifleman. And the thing is, I hate Westerns. But for some reason, I loved this show.

I can't really explain this show because I haven't seen an episode of it since I was a kid. But what I remember, there was this dude played by Chuck Conners. He was a widow and he had a kid he always called boy. Now, the kid might actually have a "real" name, but I don't remember it. I just remember that the Rifleman used to call him boy. In fact, he used to call him boy so much that it inevitably stuck in my young impressionable mind. And now, I call my nephew, boy. He hates it. But I can't stop it.

In fact, if I ever have a kid, and the thing's male, I'll probably call it a boy, too. Of course, that would probably be a bad thing seeing the over 400 years of oppression the black man has suffered through, being called a boy by the white devil and having his fine black woman raped by the savage penis of the diseased Caucasian. I'd probably be reenforcing the racism brought upon the black man by whitey every time I did that shit. But, shit, I can't help. So, there goes the "cause."

Anyway, this show always started with the Rifleman walking down the dusty street, bustin' caps with his rifle that was outfitted with this special trigger so that he could let off rounds like a primitive automatic. I read that he could get off a shot in three-fifths of a second. He'd bust six or seven caps, and then this booming voice would say, The Rifleman. Afterwards, this cool fuckin' music would kick in.

This shit was the soundtrack of whuppin a mothafucka's ass. I wish I could play that shit in my brain as I walk down the street. I'd be unstoppable. You couldn't pay me to take yo' shit. I'd fuck a man up just for looking at me the wrong way, or like in that old Time-Life commercial, snoring too fuckin' loud. Don't tempt me. I'd slap you upside the head with 10 inches of limp dick. But seeing that I'm a man's man, make that shit fifteen inches of hard Johnson. By the way, no homo this whole section here. Just scratch it out of your brain.

You know, do yourself a favor and just stop reading this shit. In fact, I'll do you a favor and I'll stop typing. I'll just stop typing and you can go on your way to another site with more useful information So, here I go, very anticlimatic, and I'll just stop typing right here